


Stuck in Reverse

by mako_lies (wingeddserpent)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, POV Outsider, Stanford Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 05:24:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2496059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingeddserpent/pseuds/mako_lies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something strange is going on with Jess’s friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stuck in Reverse

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [just_ruth's](http://just-ruth.livejournal.com/) prompt: A deck of cursed Tarot cards plays havoc with a group of college students. Stanford era.
> 
> Thanks to my beta [amanofmydreams](http://amanofmydreams.livejournal.com/). Any mistakes remaining are my own.

As the dark clouds release their rain, Jess’s phone rings. Blonde curls clinging to her face, she darts under the nearest awning. Of all the days not to bring a hoodie, seriously. “Hello?” she asks.

“Jess?” Bao-Yen’s voice sounds tinny over the crackling connection, “I’m bailing on tonight.”

“Uh, okay… Is everything all right?” Jess asks.

There’s a pause, where the line crackles and buzzes, so Jess steps closer to the building, shielding herself from the rain. She shivers against the chill, despite her sweatpants. Jess probably shouldn't have gone with the thin t-shirt today. The clears, and Bao-Yen snaps, “Yes. I’m fine—I just decided I didn’t really feel like having to be around you. So, forget about studying next week, too.”

Jess opens her mouth to say—say what? This isn’t funny, you’re my best friend, let’s talk about this?—“Bao-Yen—“ she begins but the line goes dead in her ear.

Lightning flashes in the distance, sharp and bright; the following crash of thunder reminds Jess to stuff her phone into her pocket, hands shaking. And the rain pours down and slicks Jess's shirt to her skin, raising more gooseflesh. Jess doesn't feel it as sharply, anymore. Numb.

* * *

Bao-Yen and Jess met in the dorms freshman year. One of those meet and greet activities that everyone else seemed to love. Seated by the food, Bao-Yen had grinned at Jess as she took a tentative step toward the cookies. “Major?” Bao-Yen asked, arching a perfect eyebrow.

Jess, though, found herself staring at the other girl’s bright purple hair. Which seemed a little at odds with her nice blouse and slacks, but who was Jess to judge? “Um… What? Sorry…” She flushed pink and turned her gaze back to Bao-Yen’s face.

“Do you know your major yet?” Bao-Yen repeated, kind enough not to laugh at Jess’s lame fumbling. “I’m here for history.”

“Oh—yeah. I’m studying chemistry.” Jess offered a tentative smile.

Bao-Yen matched Jess’s smile, then proffered her a cookie.

* * *

Jess makes it back to her apartment without paying attention to how she gets in the door. She sits soaked on the couch, and the storm passes as she stares at her phone. Her thumb hovers over the call button, then she pulls up her mom’s information up to—to what? _Mom, Bao-Yen said she didn't wanna be my friend anymore_ —it all seems so first grade.

The phone in her hand rings loud. She catches her breath—maybe it’s—

But, instead, it’s Brady. “Hey,” she answers, unable to prevent her voice from wavering, “Listen. Bao-Yen cancelled. She—“

“I know,” he snaps, “She just called me. What a fucking cunt.”

“Don’t, Brady. I’m sure… I mean, something had to have happened. But, I don’t think I’m up for going out tonight. I have a ton of homewo-“

Brady’s voice is gentle as she’s ever heard it when he says, “I’m worried about you, Jess. Why don’t you come over? We can watch a movie or something, and you can even be a nerd and bring your homework.”

(Bao-Yen and Luis swear up and down that Brady is sweet beneath his drugs and booze, so Jess tolerates him. Maybe this is what they’re talking about. Either way, anything is better than sitting by herself in the apartment, since her roommate is staying with her boyfriend tonight. Misery loves company, right?)

“…Okay. I’ll be there in fifteen,” she says, then disconnects.

Within five minutes, she gets her things together: stuffs her organic chemistry book into a spare bag, and lifts one of the clean towels out of the linen closet. She lays the towel out on the couch. Hopefully it’ll be dry before her roommate gets back.

* * *

Brady opens the door, eyes red-rimmed and watery, but the house doesn’t reek. Seriously, the guy smokes enough weed it’s a wonder he gets anything done. “Hey,” she says, and darts inside when he opens his arms for a hug.

She drops her bag on his coffee table as he follows her in. “Want something to drink?” he asks.

“No thanks.” Jess settles on his couch, realizing she’s still damp, hair curly and frizzy, and she rubs a hand over her face.

Tonight was supposed to be a good night; just some low key dancing with Bao-Yen and Brady. Jess and Bao-Yen have been so busy lately, she was looking forward all week to seeing her, even if it meant hanging with Brady—

He holds up _Pretty Woman_. “This sound good?”

Jess pulls her book out of the bag and nods. Reading goes slow as the movie plays. Organic chemistry is hard enough when she _isn’t_ distracted, and somehow, Brady knows every line of the movie.

That shouldn’t be endearing.

About halfway through, Jess enters the kitchen for a glass of water. She blinks at the cleanliness: the counters shiny, no trash in the bin, and no dishes in the sink except a heavy silver bowl with intricate carvings on it. Her brows furrow as she fills a glass.

“Uh. What’s up with the bowl?” Jess asks.

He frowns at her, eyes nearly black in the low light of the room. Then, he shrugs. “Family heirloom. I eat cereal out of it to piss off my mom’s ghost.”

“...Sorry about you mom,” she murmurs, then sits to watch the movie. It’s not bright enough to read well, anyway. Homework can wait.

Somehow, she doubts she’s sleeping tonight. Not with everything that happened.

* * *

Jess calls Bao-Yen the following morning, since Bao-Yen doesn't call her. She picks up on the third ring. “I thought I made myself clear,” Bao-Yen says, flat and disinterested.

It’s like someone takes a knife and twists it into Jess’s throat. Voice unsteady she asks, “Please, can we talk?” her eyes prickle hot and her hands keep shaking, and she’s gonna drop the phone if she’s not careful. “Bao-Yen, please. What happened? Did I do something?”

“Well, for one, you bailed out on my dad’s funeral. I mean, you had to, right? Your brother was getting _married_ ,” the line crackles despite there being no storm, but it can’t thaw the ice in Bao-Yen’s tone, worse that when she had broken up with that boy that'd dated her to get in her pants.

“I—“ Jess clears her throat, chokes on her words anyway, “You—you told me to go. You said you’d be okay.”

“I wasn’t.” The line crackles once, then goes dead.

* * *

Bao-Yen got the call as Jess and she were packing their bags for David's wedding.

The conversation seemed to go on forever, Bao-Yen’s face blank and pale as she answered in monosyllables. She turned to Jess after she hung up. “My dad was in a wreck,” she said, “He didn’t make it.”

For a moment, all Jess could do was stare at her. And then she pulled Bao-Yen into a hug, shaking. Her dad had been one of the funniest people Jess had ever met—always smiling and so great with kids—Bao-Yen said, muffled by Jess’s now-wet shoulder, “Funeral is Saturday.”

“I’ll come with.”

“No,” Bao-Yen pulled back, firm. Her eyes were rimmed red, tears still sliding wet down the curves of her cheeks. “No. No. You’re—you’re going to your brother’s wedding. No way.”

“Bao-Yen—“

“No! You’re going, Jess. That’s it.”

* * *

Jess skips her history class that day. She sits out in front of the library, and sifts through her bag for her copy of _Quicksand_. At the bottom—She frowns, pulls out a tarot card.

A fair-haired woman sips from an ornate cup, a dark blue ocean in the background. At the bottom, it reads _Queen of Cups_.

Where the Hell did that come from? Her bag had been empty except her notebook and textbook before going to Brady’s last night and who does she even _know_ that does tarot? Jess frowns down at the card in her hand. She’ll ask Brady if maybe it’s his.

She traces her fingertip over the edge of the card, then trails it down to touch the words. When she was ten or eleven, she dabbled in tarot, always trying to get her brother or mom to let her do a reading on them. But she can't remember much of it, thinking back on it now. Like, maybe the Queen of Cups represented an actual person? Jess frowns, then hears the fall of footsteps and turns to see Luis leaving the library.

“Jess!” He ruffles her hair, laughing. “You should come hang with me. I’ve got some beer. It’ll be fun!”

“It’s… not even noon yet,” she points out, pulling away.

“C’mon, don’t be a stick in the mud, Moore,” and he smiles bright, like they do this every day.

She shakes her head, shoving the card and her book back into her bag. Slowly, she gets to her feet and examines his face. Luis just keeps smiling, as if nothing is wrong with this picture. “You have work in a few hours, don’t you?”

“Live a little, Jess,” he laughs at her and it just—

Luis is adventurous: he likes to have fun, but he’s not reckless or irresponsible. But Bao-Yen isn’t cruel, and Brady isn’t sweet. Seriously, what is going on with everybody lately?

“Okay,” she says, shouldering her bag. “I’ll drive. Someone needs to look out for you, or you’ll do something stupid.”

* * *

Luis worked in the library as long as Jess had known him. They chatted every time she came in, which was probably more often than absolutely necessary. Most of the 100 level classes were honestly too easy. Spring of freshman year, he grinned at her armful of books and asked, “You two wanna go out for some celebratory coffee after finals?”

“What, not going to invite us to some super wild party?” Bao-Yen returned, arching an eyebrow.

“Not really my scene. Not with minors, anyway,” and he grinned, “Besides, can’t say no to the caffeine, right?”

Jess laughed. “That sounds great.”

* * *

Jess watches Luis chug his fifth beer, more like Brady than anybody else.

He staggers across his living room to her, loopy grin on his face, and he’d be cute if he didn’t slur out her name. “Jess… this is boring.” He draws out the last syllable long enough she almost laughs. “I wanna do something exciting,” Luis tells her as she sips her Sprite.

Luis glances at the window, for something exciting, presumably, when Jess puts a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, you’ve had enough. Why don’t we watch a movie or something?”

No way is he going to work. He sighs, so put upon, like when Jess hadn’t wanted to pet his tarantula named Shelob.

But Luis says, “Hey, Jess, I know you have homework and stuff. Let me walk you to your car.” And, it’s probably best not to argue. He’s right, at any rate.

They go down to the parking lot, and she’s almost to her car when Luis says, “Bet I can get across the street without getting hit!”

“Luis, no!” but he lurches out into the road—only two lanes and a turn-lane, thankfully—and cars screech to a halt as he crosses. Luis laughs on the other side as people roll down their windows to scream at him. Jess stands there with her mouth open for way too long, then gets into her car.

She drives over and bullies him into the passenger seat, then ushers him back to his apartment. All the while, he talks and talks about how _exciting_ it was.

Her hands don’t stop shaking till half an hour after she gets home.

* * *

At the start of the year, Luis and Bao-Yen had been the ones to take take care of her when she had bronchitis.

It had begun as a cold a week before midterms. Said cold had developed into bronchitis the following Tuesday. Bao-Yen fixed Jess soup and came over in the evenings to help Jess with homework, and to ensure Jess sleeping soundly by 7:30 sharp.

Luis, though, saw her on Saturday and scowled. He didn’t even say _hello_ before he declared, “I’m taking you to the clinic.”

“Hey, you don’t—“ she coughed wetly, rattling, and he pressed a cool hand to her forehead.

Jess’s eyes fell shut. It wasn't often she got sick, but man, when she did, it was seriously lame. Either she wasn't sick, or she was really sick. There never seemed to an in-between with her. Finally, she nodded as much as she could.

“Do you go to the school clinic?” he asked, “Or somewhere else?”

Bao-Yen replied, “Just take her to the school.” She stood, grabbing Jess’s coat and wallet. “Mind if I tag along?” Luis and Jess shook their heads.

Jess stretched out in the backseat, while Bao-Yen sat shotgun and Luis drove. Sometimes, you needed your friends to boot you in the ass a bit.

* * *

Near four, she gets a call from Brady. “Hey,” and he sounds concerned as she’s ever heard him. “Luis is in the hospital with a concussion. He tried to scale a building, or something fucking crazy. Uh. Heard what he did earlier… My friend Sam wanted to hear what you had to say about the whole thing. Wanna meet us at the Starbucks across from campus?”

“Um. Yeah. Okay. Sam… is he the one that works out with Luis?” Jess asks.

“Yep.”

“Be there in twenty.”

* * *

Starbucks is bustling with afternoon zombies in need of their next round of caffeine, plus people with computers pretending to study. Brady waves her over. “Jess!”

The guy across from him must be Sam. Tanned golden, with bright eyes, dimples, a square jaw and wide smile—she blinks at him for a stupid second before she grins back and sticks out her hand. “I’m Jess.”

He rises, and _wow_ Sam is tall. Guy goes on for _forever,_ or nearly that. Sam shakes her hand, firm but not hard. “Nice to meet you. I’m Sam.”

Once she has her coffee and settles into her seat, Sam leans forward with his brows drawn together. He asks, “So what happened this morning? I mean, Luis was pretty trashed when he climbed the building,” he pauses, tongue darting out to wet his lip, “He said that you two hung out earlier.”

“I was trying to keep him out of trouble. He had work, but he wanted to drink, and I don’t know, I’ve never seen him like this. I mean, normally he has like, two beers and calls it good, you know?” Jess fingers tighten on her cup.

Sam nods, floppy bangs falling into his eyes. “Yeah. I know, this is really weird… Did you notice anything else? Like maybe cold spots or weird smells?”

“No?” Jess frowns at him, what did Luis _do_ if Sam’s asking questions like that? “He was fine last time I checked, and now… He’s always been gutsy. But not like this. Honestly, he’s one of the most put together people I know.”

“And Brady says that this happened with another friend of yours?” Sam asks.

Jess’s mouth twists, because seriously, what is this guy getting at?

But he _is_ right. People have been acting weird lately, but why it would be related… She shrugs. “More or less. My best friend, Bao-Yen Phan. She’s been acting off the past couple days. In the ‘I never want to see your lame face again’ sort of way. Plus, she’s mad about things that happened last year… It’s just weird.” Hand shaking, she takes a sip of her coffee.

“Hey, listen,” Brady leaps to his feet, “I’ve gotta run. You guys good here?”

Sam nods, but looks to Jess for confirmation. “Yeah. We’re good,” she says.

With Brady gone, Sam relaxes, some of the tension in his jaw easing. Jess settles into her seat more comfortably, as he says, voice low, “I’m sorry about your friend.”

“Yeah,” she tries for a smile, “Must be something in the water, huh?” And this whole thing must really be getting to her, because for a second, his brows furrow like he’s actually considering it.

Instead, Sam says, “You know, Luis and Brady both talk about you so often, it's crazy we’ve never met. So uh, Jess. What are you majoring in?”

“Prepare to bored. Chemistry. You?”

Sam’s frowns for a moment, before he laughs. He leans forward again. “Wow. That’s… amazing. Can’t say mine’s more exciting than that. I’m in pre-law.”

Within ten minutes, she finds out that Sam is the same year as her, can’t imagine being a science major, and has a brother. In return, she tells him about her classes, her brother and sister, and that she plans on going into chemical engineering someday. She drains the last of her coffee, glances up at him to see his dimpled smile, and she matches his grin. “Hey, listen,” Sam rubs at his chin. “I really—I’m glad we finally got to meet. But I’ve got some um. I’ve got some homework to do. I’ve got to go,” he shakes his head, “Hopefully, I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Thanks, Sam. Good to meet you, too.” Jess grins at him.

He flashes one last brilliant smile, and then he heads out. Not much later, she returns to her apartment.

* * *

Instead of doing anything productive, Jess watches TV for an hour and then goes to bed early. When she wakes the next morning, there is distance. She sits up with a frown.

Everything appears filtered, too-sharp with an almost blue cast over the room. Jess blinks, tries to clear whatever is up with her eyes. Nothing happens. Her room looks the same, hyper-focused and discolored, and she shrugs. School today. She probably shouldn’t skip.

Jess slides into a short green dress and a pair of flip flops. The clock says 7:35, so she has time of fix her face. She applies it, careful and meticulous, and examines herself critically in the mirror. Her eyes pop, but—she tries for a smile, and she’s smiling but there’s something—Jess shakes her head. Must be PMS or she’s getting sick or something.

As she lifts her bag, she sees the tarot card again—and frowns. Wasn’t the Queen smiling yesterday? Okay. Jess is officially going crazy. The Queen frowns severely at her, eyes piercing as she sips her water.

With a grimace, Jess averts her gaze and leaves the Queen on her beside table. She heads out the door.

* * *

She’s ten minutes late because she stops for coffee along the way. People frown at her as she slips into the class, and she leans back in her seat without taking notes as the professor drones on.

* * *

That afternoon, Luis calls just as she settles into her car. Jess stares at his name flashing across the screen. “Yeah?” she answers.

“Hey, you wanna go dancing tonight?” he asks her, and she can barely hear him over the cacophony of people in the background: laughing and cursing and the loud pulse of music.

Whatever he’s gotten himself into now, she wants no part of. “I really don’t,” she snaps, “Have a nice time, Luis.”

There’s a brief pause, where he says something to somebody else in the background, and the line crackles with static, then he asks, “Are you mad at me, Jess?” and for a second, concern dampens his voice.

“What clued you in? Call me when you’ve got your life back in order.” Jess hangs up on him.

She frowns down at her phone for a long time, after. Maybe she should have been more understanding? Then, she grimaces. Because maybe normally she’s the understanding one, but she’s not a doormat. People have to stop treating her like one. Jess tosses her phone into the passenger seat.

* * *

The next morning, everything remains too sharp. Bright but cold, and she washes her face three times and cleanses nothing except skin. Jess dresses well again—her nicest jeans, black heels, and a black blouse cut low enough to be risqué. She straightens her hair, applies her makeup, and is fifteen minutes late.

Maybe she needs to be getting up earlier, if she's going to dress well?

Jess doesn’t answer her phone when David calls—he’d said some sexist shit last time they talked—and she goes home without making her study session. It’s not like anybody else does the work, anyway, and she’s not going to carry the others. People have got to learn to carry their own weight, and she’s been way too tolerant of people walking on her.

* * *

Near eight, somebody knocks on her door.

Bao-Yen stands there, soaked to the bone and shivering, and Jess lets her in without a word. Bao-Yen’s hair hangs limp in her face, dripping, and she blurts, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t—“

“You didn’t mean what you said?” Jess guesses, leaning against the wall.

“No, of course not,” she steps forward, rain-slicked hands reaching for Jess, and Jess puts a hand up to stop her. Bao-Yen stills, her face crumpling. “Jess. Jess, I don’t know what was going on with me. I just—it must have been stress, I don’t know. And someone broke into my apartment and made a huge mess. Nothing’s missing, but I just… I don’t know, Jess. It’s honestly such a blur, and I feel—god, I’m so, so sorry. I mean, I know you might not—not want to talk to me, after this, but I—“

Jess sighs, keeps from rolling her eyes. “It’s okay, Bao-Yen. You don’t have to make excuses, okay? But I’m not ready to talk. So, I’m going to ask you to leave, and I’ll call you when I’m up to it.”

Bao-Yen shudders, eyes welling up, and she makes as if to reach for Jess again, before pulling back and nodding. “Yeah. I—“ she swallows, thick, eyes red, “Okay. I’ll just… Call me when you can.”

And she lets herself out while Jess watches her go. With a cold thud, the door shuts, and Bao-Yen goes back out into the rain. Jess sprawls out on the couch, ignoring her roommate blasting the Beastie Boys, and then examines the ceiling. The lap marks stick out in sharp relief, something she’s never noticed before, and she sighs, just lets all the air out of her lungs in a whoosh.

She _will_ call Bao-Yen when she’s feeling a little better. God, Bao-Yen is great, and Jess loves her.

But right now, she just—can’t. Jess scrunches her eyes shut, the hot well of tears burning, and she sucks in a shaky breath. When was it that everyone decided they could treat Jess like crap? It’s always bothered her—because people do take her for granted a lot of the time, especially her family—but never like this. Jess bites her lip, but can’t cross the gap between what she’s feeling and how she wants to react.

Of everyone, Bao-Yen’s always been the one to appreciate her the most. But, for some reason, Jess can’t find it in her to care. Not right now.

* * *

The following afternoon finds her in Brady’s apartment, because he’s somehow the only one she’s not pissed at, plus he bribes her with food. They order pizza, and he puts on _Groundhog Day_. “So, heard Luis is feeling better,” Brady says, ten minutes in, “He called earlier to apologize for being a jackass.”

“Bao-Yen did the same thing.”

Brady examines her, pizza dripping grease as he brings it to his mouth. “Yeah? So you gals talking again?”

“No,” and Jess takes a bite of her pizza, turning her attention back to the movie.

Halfway through, when the food is all but gone, Brady stands up. “I need to make a phone call,” he tells her, and heads into the back room. The movie continues playing, but she finds her attention drawn to the bedroom door he's left cracked open. After a few minutes, the soft roll of his voice sounds, and she can’t make much out—like he doesn’t want her to hear.

Which, okay, his house. He deserves privacy but—she creeps in the direction of his bathroom, closer to the bedroom and hears—“No, not rusty. He’s found all but one.” A long, long pause. “Yes. I think I found that perfect someone.”

She has no idea what Brady’s talking about, but he’s found someone? That’s good. As far as Jess knows, Brady doesn’t date. He sleeps around, sure, but never dating. Jess slips into the bathroom. When she comes out, he is sprawled out on the couch. “You want anymore pizza?”

“No thanks.”

As the movie plays, she glances up every now and again to see Brady watching her with dark, dark eyes. Jess shifts, looking back at the screen, before she says, “I have homework to do,” this, this right here is why she doesn’t spend time with Brady. He’s a creep. God, what—why had she thought this was a good plan?

Brady nods absently. “Whatever. Later.”

On her way down the stairs, she hears, “Hey, Jess?” and it’s Sam, in a giant hoodie and jeans with a hole in the knee. He smiles, wide and earnest. “Luis has calmed down, and is feeling a lot better. How’re things with your friend… um… God, what was her name?”

More questions. Seriously. Briskly, she says, “Fine. You here to see Brady?”

“Uh—“ he falters, his brows furrowing. “Yeah. I was. He asked me over earlier, and I—was running late. Jess, are you feeling okay?”

“Fine. Like I said. Listen, it’s been good talking to you, Sam. Really. But I’ve got homework to do. Glad Luis is doing well. Have a nice evening.”

She brushes past him as he responds, “Yeah. Uh. You too.”

* * *

Jess wakes the next morning to Bao-Yen calling, and doesn’t answer. She ignores a call from Luis, too. Instead, she gets dressed for the day—early enough she gets her makeup perfect—and she heads out the door. Halfway through class, the world tilts, blurring out, the professor’s voice crackling like static and the lights buzzing in her ears, and she staggers to her feet, barely grabbing her bag in time. Jess staggers out of class.

She collapses in the hallway, leaning her back against the wall as she heaves in air, and that clarity, that sharpness that has been cast over everything is gone, blurry now, and holy crap, what the hell is—?

Jess yanks hard at her hair, bites down on her bottom lip to keep from sobbing as the world spins and spins so fast she might expel everything she's ever eaten, and then—it stops. One moment, she’s panting and everything is whirling, the next—the world rights itself. And she blinks at the hallway, against the sudden flooding of light in her vision. Everything looks the way it normally looks, not focused or cold. Jess swallows, then lurches to her feet.

The world doesn’t tilt. She doesn’t stumble once as she hefts her bag out of the building and into to her car.

Jess fumbles her phone out of her bag and calls her doctor, first. Asks for an appointment, because something had impacted her vision, and mood drastically. They schedule her for Tuesday.

Then, she calls Bao-Yen. After two rings, she picks up. “Jess?” her voice is soft. “Hey. Are you—?”

“I’m fine. Bao-Yen, I’m sorry about the last few days. I didn’t—my feelings were hurt, but I wasn’t angry, really. I seriously don’t know what came over me,” she clutches her phone white-knuckled.

There’s a pause, before Bao-Yen gives a watery laugh. “Must have been something in the water or with the moon, or whatever. I get done at noon. Can I come over?”

“That'd be great. I’ve been hanging out with _Brady_ of all people,” which, seriously, what the hell was that about?

“I’ll see you soon, Jess,” Bao-Yen’s voice hangs with relief. “I’ll bring cookies.”

Jess drives home and, as she’s approaching her apartment, she sees Sam talking on his phone. “Thanks for all your help, Pastor Jim. I think that was the last one,” he pauses, expression shuttering. “Yeah. Thanks for not telling my dad or Dean… Yeah, yeah. I’ll let you know how the quarter goes. Thanks.”

He hangs up, and Jess waves. “Hey. Sorry if I was curt with you yesterday,” she stops in front of him. “It’s been a weird week.” Which is like, the understatement of the century, but he doesn't need to know that.

“Hey, it’s okay. I get it.” Sam flashes that bright smile again, all white teeth and dimples.

But there are dark circles under his eyes, puffy and purple, and so Jess offers a smile of her own. “All right. Well, if there aren’t any hard feelings, how about we go for coffee sometime next week?”


End file.
